I was thinking while washing dishes—because menial chores are really good for that—and I came to a depressing realization. And then, once I was done with the woe, I got mad. So, I’m ranting. Some more. And I swear, I didn’t start this blog with the intent to rant madly about all things sex, but, well. There is an entire fucking swamp—and don’t even get me started on the sinkholes—of Not Okay in Sexyland. And since I keep on getting chucked headfirst into said swamp . . . you see where this is going.
Now, let state right out front: I like who I am. I wouldn’t change me for the world. But being a woman fucking sucks sometimes, and no, I’m not talking about the fact that I bleed every month. Being gay can also be a really rough fucking deal. Being a gay woman, well. There’s a whole quadrant of Not Okay Swamp reserved just for people like me.
Because, see, here’s the thing: people keep treating my sexual agency like it’s a fucking Fleshlight*. And then get indignant when I don’t respond well.
But here’s the part that these assholes seem to miss: my sexual orientation is not a joke, a choice, or a challenge. Furthermore, my choice in bed partners is decided by me and me alone—there is no democracy, no group decision-making, and I am under zero obligation to take anyone else’s opinion under consideration. So if I tell you “no”, especially if I tell you no because you’re male and I’m a lesbian, then that is the time to either change the topic or make a tactical retreat.
You know what options don’t exist there? Trying to get in my pants using guerrilla tactics. Making jokes at my expense. Downplaying the importance of my sexual orientation.
Right after Motherunit expired, I came out to my extended family. I wanted relationships with them after being estranged so long, but if they couldn’t accept having a gay family member, well . . . I’d survived years of estrangement, so I knew that I could handle not having relationships with those who couldn’t deal. After coming out to my Aunt Penny, who was only 10 years or so older than Motherunit, I was told “to keep an open mind”, because I never knew—“there might be a man someday”! Um, excuse you? There “might be a man someday”? And, what? His beautiful face and sparkly magic dick will change who I am? Like, do you even know what logic is?
Future Response to this Idiocy: Sure, I’ll keep my mind open—but only if you do. Because you never know, you might meet a man/woman someday!
Someone I knew in high school—we were close friends once—was complaining to me about being horny. I tried to commiserate, and was told that my abstinence was a choice, where hers was not—she had a long-distance boyfriend, where I could walk into a bar any time I wanted and pick someone up to get laid. After blinking a few times to clear the confusion from my eyelashes, I texted back “Not really. I’m a lesbian and the dating pool is kinda small.” She proceeded to tell me that I could have sex with men, I just don’t want to—so I was choosing to go without sex. Which, no. Just no. Who and what people find sexually attractive is not something we have conscious control over. Why would I ever want to go to bed with someone I feel literally nothing for? It’s not like that’s going to end in good times or pleasant feelings for either of us.
Future Response: Wow, you’ve found a way to alter people’s sexual preferences? You should patent that, you’d make a fucking fortune.
Okay, now, this has happened to me in various permutations multiple times, and I still never quite get over the audacity. Or the fucking ignorance these guys display (because it’s always guys asking this, always). You know that terrible stereotype where, as soon as a guy hears that a woman’s a lesbian, he asks about a threesome? Yeah. That’s happened to me multiple times. It never gets less disgusting. Nor does it get more understandable. Like . . . have you really thought this through? You want a woman to join you and your female partner in bed when she has no desire to get anywhere near a dick, never mind what the hell to do with one?
And, just. I have gotten some real winners trying to argue, here. I had one guy ask if I’d fool around with his girlfriend while he fucked her. Which, no. Because penis. Although that does lead me to . . .
I knew this one guy (called him a friend until he revealed himself to be intolerable) who started hitting on me the moment he met me. I not-so-innocently let it drop that I’m a lesbian. Shameless flirting and innuendo continues. Finally it gets to the point that I have to ask him about it, so I do. To which he responds “Well, I’ve known women who said they were lesbians but fucked men.”
Which, wow. Okay. That requires some dissection, because a) sometimes it takes a while for the non-hetero among us to figure out what we like, and experimentation can be part of that; b) yes, sometimes women who identify as lesbian occasionally have sex with men—but it is their right to choose what label they apply to their sexual orientation, and their sexual choices are nobody else’s business; and c) lesbians, much like any other group of humans, come in a wide variety of colours, flavours, speeds, settings, and packages. Assuming that I am like some other lesbian you know just because it continues to afford you the hope of getting in my pants is Not Okay. Especially after I’ve already nicely told you “no”.
Exhibit E (if I include any more exhibits, I’ll be able to open a Museum of Gross):
I can’t even tell you how many guys (because with one exception, it’s always guys) have
• asked me about the lesbians-and-sex-toys thing;
• put forth the opinion that lesbians who use sex toys aren’t really lesbians;
• asked “why not just fuck a guy, then?”
Oh my God, people. Seriously. Lesbians—just like every other adult demographic—use sex toys because that is what the individual(s) in question enjoy. The fact that a woman has nerve-endings and pleasure-centres inside her vagina has literally nothing to do with whether or not she sleeps with men. Cis-men have prostates and cis-women have G-spots. That is a biological fact that has no bearing whatsoever on what they like sexually or who they take to bed.
I would also like to point out that using a sex toy is in no way equivalent to having sex with a man. A man is an autonomous human being with preferences and agency and sexual experiences. A sex toy is a piece of glass/plastic/silicone that the user gets to have complete control over with regards to size, construction, and technique, and use or not use as they desire. Additionally, who you’re with makes a huge difference in whether or not you enjoy a particular sex act—just because a lesbian enjoys penetration doesn’t mean she will enjoy having sex with a man. Trying to claim that someone isn’t a “real” lesbian because they use sex toys is disgusting and entitled. Because who made you the Sex Police?
Future Response (aimed at heterosexual men): You like blowjobs? Unh-hunh, I thought so. Now, are you trying to tell me that getting a blowjob from a guy is the same as getting one from your girlfriend/wife?
Future Response (aimed at everyone else): Do the men in your life know that you reduce them to their dicks?
*For those of you who don’t know, this is a Fleshlight. That link is NSFW, so if you don’t want to/can’t click it right now, that’s fine. The Fleshlight-in-140-characters-or-less: it’s a plastic tube filled with IDEK that has an opening resembling a bodily orifice. Lonely dudes fuck it.
Also: this link is safe-ish, although I look at that and have to ask WHY IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS HOLY anyone would want to put their dick in it? Like, who looked at this thing and went “You know what? I wanna fuck its FACE!”???
I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.